Wednesday, August 22, 2012

“When we used to come there all the time for the book club, I always noticed how beautiful the street was.”

“It’s a great street,” I said.

“And you with your black pants and Chinese slippers and your cat. Your place always looked so perfect inside and you always looked so… lonely.”

I think of this conversation as I’m tripping over the three-foot tall Batcave blocking the door to my closet. A dog is sleeping on top of the clean laundry that is heaped, unfolded in the big chair. Dishes are piled high in the drainer and the sink and on the counter. My mother refers to these messes as “signs of life.”

My home is filled with these “signs.” When the chaos and clutter and sticky floors feel overwhelming, when it’s me versus the mess, and the mess is winning, I remember that I have traded my color-coded closet for this sweet, chaotic life. These are the days and people and animals I choose and I am grateful. I'm not lonely anymore.

And no I don’t know what that is smeared on your pillow and no, I will not smell it, but I do adore you.

I just took a break, hopping to my daily blog readings: because I am overwhelmed from the two hours I've already put in swiping toilets, cleaning off countertops, folding laundry, updating grocery list, getting in my morning exercise, checking teeth to be sure they'd done a good job brushing, refilling medications, and supervising bed making.

I have just discovered this blog, through my friend Karen on FB. Thank you the perfect depiction of those days, long gone for me. You nail it.With my babes grown an out in the world now, what a delicious trip down precious memory lane. All the cliches are so, so true- how fast those years fly by! I am so grateful for all those busy, overflowing days. Thanks for the reminder. Jamie in Baywood

Ever since I started reading "smacksy" I've thought of it as the place where you record the snippets of your life in all its richness and abundance. I wonder what Bob will think of all it when he's a young man and looks back at the joy he was constantly surrounded by in your world. I wish every parent had the time, the inclination, and the time to do this for themselves, their families, and those of us who didn't experience anything remotely carefree in childhood or beyond.

You're doing something so incredibly special here. I hope you know how much light and joy you spread by allowing us to peek into a world of magic through Bob's and your eyes.

If I could send you a photo of me right now of my new house-- me in my "office" surrounded by unpacked boxes (with cats napping on them) and little bitty toys and random clothes like a (dirty) sock of Eli's and Zach's winter coat from last year and paper piles threatening to spill over and my sanity about to spill over with them, you'd know how right this blog post did me today. Thank you, as always. xo Jennifer

Would you believe I was interrupted while reading this by 5 y o yelling for me to come help him wipe his tush? Seems fitting. Love this post. And the fact that I'm not the only one with the "piles". :)

I keep telling myself to relax about the signs of life. I know it's only a small window of time before they will be gone. I want to spend all my time enjoying the life instead of stressing over the signs. Beautiful post.

My girl stored her half-eaten cheese on my iPad screen this evening. That was a sign of life I could have lived without, but then, I'll feast off that anecdote forever. Also, I live with a neatnik so my pre-family home was far, far messier. So all hail our grubby, silly signs of life.